The Anonymous Us Project is a safety zone for real and honest insights regarding third party reproduction (sperm & egg donation, and surrogacy). We aim to share the experiences of voluntary and involuntary participants in these new reproductive technologies, while preserving the dignity and privacy for story-tellers and their loved ones. All stories are contributed anonymously because "anonymity in reproduction hides the truth, but anonymity in story-telling helps reveal the truth." Read More
I don't agree with the way I was born. I really don't.
I was 18 when my mother told me that my father wasn't actually my dad. I was filling out medical information for college when the website asked for my father's medical history. I looked to my mom for guidance when she told just to not fill it out and stop. That's when she told me. My sister, my mom, and I were all related, but not to my father. Yes, it was a giant shock, but at first it didn't hit me. Later that evening, I couldn't look at my father again the same way. The man who I had spent 18 years believing was my dad, wasn't anymore. I'll admit that later that night as I lay in bed I googled what I am and what this was. I will openly admit that I cried myself to sleep that night.
Ever since that night I've struggled with this. There isn't a day that goes by where I don't think about it. I'll look at other people's families and see the way they all work together and how they all look alike. And I can't do it. And then it all made sense to me. Like why my parents waited six years to have children. Why only once someone has told me I look like my dad and every other time like my mom or my sister.
After my mom told me what I was she said, "All it changes is that we don't know your medical history. Nothing else."
I can't tell you how wrong she was.
College is tough. Everyone asks me about my family. They'll ask, "How many siblings do you have?"
And I have to reply one. But I don't know actually how many I do have.
Dad's weekend was really hard on me too. Seeing so many people who look so much like their dads while mine (who actually couldn't attend) was not actually my dad.
I'm not related to one half of my family. I don't actually know how many brothers or sisters I have. I don't know if I'm an aunt yet. I could have nieces and nephews. I have an entire half of my family that I don't know. I have another grandma. But I don't know if she's passed away. My half-siblings could have passed away too. But, I won't know what their life was and how they contributed to our world. I want to know these people. I want to know about their lives. I want to see the half of me in them. I want to know what my father looks like so I can see where I came from.
There are too many negative things that happen with Donor children. And its not an easy thing to cope with. Some of us feel like lab rats. Most of us wish our parents had rather adopted. I understand why people use this method of conceiving, but I don't agree with it. The children who are conceived from this suffer too much. And its not an easy thing to just "get over."
I don't believe in the way I was conceived. I really don't.
I am 39 years old. Christian, conservative. Victim of an abusive marriage, which I terminated two years ago. My ex was infertile (thank God.) We never conceived.
I am a child advocate, educator, curriculum writer for the child who learns differently. I (literally) have on my body marks from the emotionally disturbed children I have served. For twenty years I have served a population damaged by adult choices. And, I have only ever wanted one thing: to raise my own child applying all I have gathered and learned through the years.
So, I began a path towards parenthood. Overjoyed that I could carry and raise a child that could never be taken from me. Starting at the beginning and loving and giving to her all the very best of who I am.
I chose my donor, oh so carefully. I had my blood-work done. Completed paperwork. And I purchased one vial. I spoke to my obgyn, he is on call for my ovulation, next weekend.
And last night, I found your website. And I read story after story of adults who were so unhappy. I read about the violation of human rights of the children that are being created. I read the comparison between donor purchasing and human trafficking. And I wept.
I had never considered these views. They broke my heart, and I knew that I would never, ever want to hurt a person like this.
So, to that darling soul in heaven that I will not be carrying under my heart, know that I love you more than life. I love you more than me or my happiness or fulfillment. You are too precious to be brought into this world with pain born into your heart.
I love you,
the woman who was almost your mama.